Chapter 32 The education of a Queen
Moving into Cardan's chambers was a study in logistics.
I refused to surrender my own quarters entirely. Those rooms were my sanctuary, the enchanted curtains, the living shadows, the small corner of Hel I had carved out in this golden prison. So I compromised. My personal belongings stayed where they were. My handmaidens remained in their adjoining chambers. Ash kept his pillow by my window.
But my nights would belong to the King's chambers. And the massive, cold, impossibly hard bed that came with them.
"It's only sleeping," I reminded Liriel as she helped me pack a small trunk with nightgowns and toiletries. "I've slept in the same bed as him before. Our wedding night. Nothing happened."
"Nothing happened then because you were both too angry and too exhausted to do anything about it," Liriel pointed out. "The situation has evolved."
"Nothing has evolved."
"His mistress is gone. He has apologized. He has asked you to move into his chambers. He looks at you differently now."
"I don’t think so. He looks at me like a problem he's trying to solve. Like a puzzle he’s not quite sure of.”
Liriel gave me a long, measured look. "If that is what you want to believe, Your Majesty."
"It is what I know."
She said nothing else. But her silence was louder than words.
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The first three nights were uneventful.
Cardan came to bed late, long after I had retired, and rose early, before I woke. We slept on opposite sides of the enormous mattress, a chasm of cold sheets between us. We did not speak. We did not touch. We existed in the same space like two planets orbiting different suns, close enough to see but too far to feel.
By the fourth night, I had begun to wonder if this was all the consummation would ever be. Two bodies in a bed. Two strangers sharing darkness. Two hearts beating in separate rhythms, never quite meeting.
On the fifth day, Princess Cressida came to visit.
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She arrived without warning, sweeping into my private chambers with her honey-brown hair perfectly coiffed and her rose-silk gown rustling like whispered secrets. Behind her trailed a small army of servants bearing boxes and bottles and what appeared to be a rather alarmed looking potted plant.
"Your Majesty." She curtsied, deeper than usual, I noted. "I hope I'm not intruding."
"You are," I said. "Come in anyway."
If the barb landed, she didn't show it. She settled onto my sofa with the practiced grace of someone who had spent her entire life being welcomed into rooms where she wasn't wanted.
"I've come to have a very important conversation with you," she announced. "Woman to woman. Queen to... soon-to-be mother."
"I am not with child."
"No, but you will be. Or at least, you should be trying." She signaled to her servants, who began arranging the boxes and bottles on my table. "I've brought gifts. Fertility teas. Tinctures from the Temple of Solara. A moon-phase calendar for tracking your cycles. And this..." she gestured to the potted plant, "...is a Silverthorn fern. Very rare. Very potent. You steep the leaves in hot water and drink it three times a day. It strengthens the uterine lining."
I stared at her. "You've brought me plants."
"Every Queen needs fertility plants. I had seven when I was trying to conceive Theodore. Seven. It took me two years, three healers, and two priestesses before I finally conceived. Fae pregnancies are..." She paused, searching for the right word. "Challenging."
"Challenging how?"
Cressida's expression grew serious. "Fae women don't conceive easily. Our bodies are... resistant. The magic in our blood makes us strong, long-lived, nearly immortal. But it also makes us infertile. Most Fae couples try for decades before conceiving. Some never succeed."
I thought of my mother. Queen Andromeda. She had borne three children, Eris, Maz, and me. But she had also disappeared twelve years ago, and no one had ever told me if there had been others. If there had been losses.
"I didn't know that," I said quietly.
"Most people don't. It's not the sort of thing we discuss in polite company." Cressida leaned forward. "But you need to know, Nyx. The court is watching your belly. The High Lords are counting the months. Every day your marriage remains unconsummated, every month you fail to conceive, they grow more restless. The succession is everything. Without an heir, the throne is vulnerable."
"The throne has Cardan."
"Cardan is one male. Only one. He is one assassination attempt away from extinction." Her voice was matter-of-fact, but her eyes were sharp. "If he dies without an heir, the High Lords will fight over who should be the next King. And my son is too young, I do not want him that responsibility on him. And Elowyn..." She hesitated.
"Elowyn what?"
"Elowyn has never forgiven the kingdom for being born female. I know she will fight for the throne if she has the chance to and she will burn down every tradition that slighted her. And she will not be gentle about it."
I absorbed this. "You're telling me that conceiving an heir is the only thing standing between Elowyn and the throne."
"I'm telling you that your womb is the most powerful weapon in this court. More powerful than your shadows. More powerful than your crown. If you give Cardan a child, you secure your position forever. The High Lords can scheme all they like. They cannot undo a legitimate heir."
My head was spinning. "And if I can't conceive?"
"Then you find ways to make yourself indispensable in other ways. But an heir is the surest path." Cressida settled back against the sofa. "Which brings me to the other reason I'm here."
"There's more?"
"Sex."
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Sex, Your Majesty. The act of consummation. The marital bed." Cressida's expression was perfectly serene. "I'm going to tell you everything you need to know. Positions. Timing. How to make it bearable, if not enjoyable. My mother did the same for me before my wedding night, and I am eternally grateful. Fae males can be... enthusiastic. And not particularly attentive to their partners' comfort."
I stared at her. Then, unexpectedly, I started laughing.
"You came here to teach me about sex."
"It's not funny. It's a vital part of your education as Queen."
"It's hilarious. You've spent weeks treating me like a monster, and now you're in my chambers giving me fertility advice."
Cressida's lips twitched. "I never treated you like a monster. I treated you like a threat. There's a difference."
"Is there?"
"Monsters are to be feared. Threats are to be managed." She tilted her head. "I've decided you're more useful to me as an ally than a threat. Elowyn never really cared for me to be honest, she treated me like an afterthought. I was happy to be married and rid of her, even at a very young age. Cardan is also very distant. There’s not much I can talk to him about. The kingdom has a lot of problems. Someone needs to keep things together, and I'm beginning to think that someone might be you."
"You're offering an alliance?"
"I'm offering information. What you do with it is your choice."
I studied her. Cressida was difficult to read, her honeyed smiles and soft voice masked a sharp, calculating mind. But I recognized something in her eyes. Pragmatism. Survival. The particular steel of a woman who had learned to navigate a patriarchal court by making herself indispensable.
"Fine," I said. "Tell me about sex."
She smiled. "Excellent. Let's start with the basics."